Evening Drink

A buzzer sounded as I entered the door. Like most business doors, it buzzed again when the door closed. I could feel several pairs of eyes on me as I headed for my usual table in the corner. The sensation of being watched was gone by the time I sat down. I came often enough that the two waitresses knew me and the other few patrons were most likely too drunk to care. I looked around the bar. There were only a few people here this time of the night; two at the bar and five at random tables. Just then one of the waitresses walked up.

"The usual for ya tonight Gabriel?" she asked.

I nodded even though she was already writing it down. She smiled and walked back towards the bar. I watched absentmindedly as she gave the bartender the order; her shoulder length strawberry blond hair swished as she moved.

While I waited, I pulled out my wallet and counted the cash; three fifties, a couple of twenties and some fives. Damn, I was low again, though I still had enough to get a few drinks. I needed it. I put my wallet back in my pocket in time to see the other waitress emerge from the restroom. She noticed me immediately.

"Shit" I swore mentally. That ditz annoyed the hell out of me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her straighten her uniform. If you could call the skimpy outfit a uniform. Then she started walking in my direction. I turned my head and looked absently around the room ignoring her presence. She stopped in front of my table. I continued to ignore her.

"What can I get you tonight Gabriel?" Lauren asked sweetly.

"Jen already got it," I replied coldly, hoping she would take a hint and leave.

"Oh, well is there anything else I can get for you?" She said coyly while running a hand through her waist length bleach blond hair.

"Some peace and quiet," I gave her a short glare. She gave a pouting look and walked away.

Good riddance.

I looked at the large clock above the bar; almost midnight. Then I heard footsteps coming toward me. I looked down from the clock to see Jen walking over with my drinks on her serving tray. She placed them on the table.

"Thanks Jen."

"Holler when you're done." She replied in her southern accent and walked over to another table where three other men were seated. I picked up my first drink and took a long gulp. The liquid burned slightly as it went down. I took another swig. I welcomed the burning sensation. It took away some of the memories and pain with each drop.

When I finished the first glass, I started on the second. Too soon it was gone as well. The two glasses weren't nearly enough to make me drunk but it created a pleasant buzz. Then I heard another glass being put onto the table. Jen was standing there with another dink. I raised an eyebrow.

"Don't give me that look. It's on the house; you look like you could use it."

"What makes you say that?" I asked, taking hold of the offered drink and bringing it to my lips. She laughed lightly at my contradicting statement and actions.

"You've been coming here for almost a year. Normally you come about twice a week but I've seen you every night for the past week; drinking more than usual I might add."

I sipped at my drink wordlessly. She looked at me as if expecting an answer. I looked away indifferently. I could almost feel her eyebrow raise and her eyes bore into the side of my head.

"You are really stubborn you know that."

The side of my mouth went up slightly. Something she always reminded me of.

"Don't you be smirking at me!"

It only grew wider. She was about to retort but Lauren cut in before she could.

"Jen these drinks aren't going to serve themselves," she hollered from the side of the bar. Jen rolled her eyes and turned her back to the loud blonde.

"I'm going to get the answer out of you."

"Is that so?" I took another sip and eyed her over the rim of my glass. A moment of silence followed.

"It's Amelia isn't it?"

The liquid I had just swallowed seemed to go down heavier.

"I'm not stupid Gabe; you were like this a year ago. Only you'd get to eight or nine drinks instead of five. You're not hard to read."  

Damn women's intuition.

Her face became more serious. "You can't keep living in the past. I didn't know Amelia very well but if I was her I would want you to be happy and move on."

I barely noticed my glass hit the table top, producing a loud thud. "Well you're not her are you?" I snapped. My voice rose to an almost shout, mirroring the conflict built up inside. "Why does everyone say you have to move on? What if I don't want to? No one can ever replace her. Not you or anyone else."

A glimmer of hurt flashed in her eyes but was quickly gone. "I never said to replace her. You can never replace people that you lose, but if the situation were reversed would you want her to be this miserable and unhappy?" She let the accusation hang in the air before lowering her voice. "You're not the only one in this world that has lost someone Gabe, think about that." She turned and walked back to the bar.

My teeth clenched. What did she know? She only knew part of the story. I stood up and finished the last of my drink. Fishing the cash out of my pocket, I pulled out enough for three drinks, laid it on the table, and walked toward the door. The buzzer sounded ominously behind me.

After an hour of aimlessly walking through the dark lit streets of downtown Boston, my temper had simmered down. In its place was a thorn itching its way in to my conscience. I could almost hear my dad scolding me.

"I thought I taught you better then to talk to women like that. Suck it up and go apologize."

It was almost as bad as my mom's all knowing look that made me feel like a little kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I stopped in my tracks and leaned my back against the side of an old warehouse. I could see the faces of my mom and dad and hear what I know they would tell me. I could see my mom, hand on her hip; say: "See that wasn't so hard." Like she always did after I finally did something I didn't want to do.

I looked up the street I just came down. I sighed in defeat and stared walking back the way I came.